


hair

by butsometimesicry



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hair Brushing, Long haired Techno, Mentioned Dave | Technoblade, Reader-Insert, Sleepiness, Technoblade/Reader - Freeform, Technoblade/You, Technobraid, Trust, kitchen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:29:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27151799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butsometimesicry/pseuds/butsometimesicry
Summary: my brain went, "technobraid?" for one second and one second only.most definitely qualifies for a rewrite.and i hope you all have a wonderful day.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 277





	hair

To put it simply, his hair was _ beautiful _ . Beautiful, long, and always smelt like the freshest strawberries when you hugged him.

And there he sat, with his pink as a flamingo hair, in the barstool that once resided in it’s belonged place at the other side of the breakfast bar now dragged to the center of the kitchen. The chair was pumped down almost as far as it could possibly go as you stood directly behind him. Both his crown and robe were taken off, crown placed aside, and mantle being used as a hairdresser’s cape/blanket. even though there was a lack of reflection in front of him to allow you to see his face, you knew that his eyes were already peacefully closed before you had even started, it seemed like just your presence alone was enough to put him at ease. 

You picked up the hair-tie wrapped around the end of his hair and slipped it out before steadily pulling apart the braid and slowly working up until you got to the nape of his neck where it had originally begun. 

All of this was truly a testament to just how much he trusted you. Techno let  _ no living nor deceased soul _ touch his hair or even be as close as to touch any part of him let alone his neck, both made him revoltingly uncomfortable, and yet, here you were, hands in his hair, and he had asked you to.

Picking up the hairbrush set on the countertop, you gently started to brush the ends of his hair, watching as it immediately expands to soften, leaving behind a silky shine. each stroke of the delicate bristles gaining height once one section has been cleared of its occasional nicks of knots with only pure tenderness.

In this moment, his shoulders are completely relaxed and it’s like every ounce of stress and tension has been squeezed and drained out of him. It almost looks like he has unconsciously drifted off and fallen asleep sitting up.

It’s not until you lift your hand to do the final brush that he differentiates the idea of him being entirely asleep, letting his head fall all of the way back as what spreads over his face is a sleepy smile, true appreciation and love so truthfully enveloped in his eyes.

Speed of which would belong more to a sloth, he lifts his arm from underneath his cloak, grasping onto your unoccupied hand, and presses and cradles it to his cheek, maintaining your eyes. 

“I love you.. Thank you.”

You dont bother arguing with him for reason of you know what he is thanking you for and telling you runs much deeper than the simple act of brushing his hair for him.

**Author's Note:**

> my brain went, "technobraid?" for one second and one second only.
> 
> most definitely qualifies for a rewrite.
> 
> and i hope you all have a wonderful day.


End file.
